


And What Came After

by JenCforCarolina



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, open character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:38:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6553114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenCforCarolina/pseuds/JenCforCarolina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The help you need may not come from the people you expect.</i><br/>Uldren assisted by The Guardian after the Battle of Saturn</p>
            </blockquote>





	And What Came After

**Author's Note:**

> [Find it on Tumblr here](http://jencforcarolina.tumblr.com/post/133081497513/and-what-came-after)

Mars was always depressing. It swallowed everything beneath time and sands. The red dust blew against his armor and face. It stuck to and muted the purples and yellows of his ship, when he could get a glimpse of it. The Crows moved about it like an oozing wave, patching and pulling and wiring. He had a desperate need to be active, to busy himself, but there was no opportunity here, not with his Crows so bustling. He retreated to a dune instead, sitting and thinking and waiting.

Motion in the sky overhead, the shadow of a ship in the hazy clouds. He dismissed it until minutes later when a disturbance on the landscape halted the Crows in their work. They turned as one and surveyed the intruder.  
It was the Guardian, their profile, their walk, the same who had arrived in his sister’s throne room months ago demanding information.

They stood at the rim of the small crater left by his ship. It was difficult to tell where they were looking behind their visor and across the slight distance. After a moment they began picking their way through the soft sand, around the rim of the depression. Towards him. He stood and steeled his jaw.

“Guardian.” He sneered when they arrived.

“You’re alive.” Was their response, no greeting, no acknowledgement. “Petra has been in shambles. The Vanguard heard what happened.”

“How?” He demanded, mind leaping to conclusions of survivors and spies, of treason and deceit.

They shrugged. “Ikora has her sources. They send their sympathies…”

“I don’t need the sympathy of your City.” He snarled, stepping closer to their featureless face. “I didn’t see the Vanguard fighting Oryx’s forces.”

“We didn’t know it had arrived. No one thought to alert us.” The Guardian retorted, leaning in ever so slightly. It was evident he wasn’t going to win this through intimidation.

“Well, I don’t see the point anyway, you wouldn’t have the capacity to stand up against a threat like that. We were the only chance the system had.”

“The weapon is disabled.” They said. “We have a transmat zone locked down and we’re sending multiple strikes daily to weaken Oryx’s forces.”

“What, is that supposed to make me feel better?” He snapped.

The Guardian shrugged. “If you want it to.”

He snarled and turned away, stalking down the dune towards his ship.

“I’m sorry-” They began behind him, faltering. It was enough to make him pause and glare back over his shoulder. But the Guardian didn’t meet his gaze.

“I know.” They said. “I know how it feels to lose everyone you ever knew. I know how it feels to wake up, and have everything just be gone one day. I know.”

“You cannot understand-“ They cut him off.

“Do you know how Guardians are born?” He decided not to give them the satisfaction of an answer. They continued anyway. “Our Ghosts pump our centuries old corpses full of light. Centuries. Anything we ever knew is dead long before we feel the Light.”

“Take your pity somewhere else Guardian.” He snapped, and walked faster down the hill.

They followed him, slower, and from a distance. Stood a ways off while he made a show of examining a particular dent in the side of the hull. The Crows respectfully stood by, waiting for his signal to continue work.

“I can take you to the Vestian Outpost if you want.”

He tilted his head and peered at them. “And why would you take the time to do that?”

They shrugged one shoulder, the barest reaction to his tone. “It is customary for veteran Guardians to offer those they find out in the wilds a ride home.”

He glanced forlornly back at his ship. He would much rather repair it and return to the Reef himself, unassisted and proud as a Prince should be.

“Repairs will take time.” The Guardian pointed out and he hated them for the comment and for being right.

“Fine.” He grumbled. “Let’s go.”

The Guardian nodded and extended a hand away from them. Their tiny ghost sparked into existence and spun itself in intricate motions. Momentarily, a ship emerged from the clouds and settled atop the rim of the crater.

“I will return for you.” He told the Crows. “Finish repairs.”

“We will await you Master.” They echoed.

The Guardian waited for him halfway up the hill. The landing ramp of their ship was gaping. He followed them inside and it smelled of metal and fuel and oxygen. Strapping into an extra seat, he stared out the forward viewport, an uninteresting, unfamiliar grey. The cockpit around him was greys and platinum’s and chromes, not a hint of purple or cyan. No familiarity. There was no one anywhere for him to reach for or ask for guidance. The ship lifted into the atmosphere. Though he was headed for the Reef he was lost.

He felt had never felt so out of control.


End file.
